


we wrote the prelude (to our own fairytale)

by theatrythms



Series: i'll tell you my sins (and you can sharpen your knife) [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Referenced Child Abandonment, The format is weird, written in 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatrythms/pseuds/theatrythms
Summary: And honestly, at the end of it all, they’re just two boys with kingdoms they don’t fully understand, walking into a war that leaves no survivors.
Relationships: Marx | Xander & Siegbert, Ryoma & Shinonome | Shiro, Shinonome | Shiro/Siegbert
Series: i'll tell you my sins (and you can sharpen your knife) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668334
Kudos: 15





	we wrote the prelude (to our own fairytale)

**Author's Note:**

> again !! written in 2016 !!!! i adore both of these boys sm even four years on 🥺🥺 i hope u enjoy !

_ 2015 - Cyrkensia _

There’s complete silence around them, a silence unlike the kind normally found in the school buildings. The thrum of pens scribbling, idle chatter when students think the teacher can’t hear, and the wave of pages flipping. Outside, the school campus looks desolate, no movement, just the subtle push of the cold air drafting through the remaining leaves, left alone after autumn. The Cyrkensia Academy is empty, for the winter holidays. The school is deserted, children going back home for their respective celebrations.

And two boys, both princes in their own right, are alone.

-

The two boys take a second to look at each other; one dark haired and squat, the other lanky and blonde. And then it takes a second to process what’s happening, all the while the cold air breezes over the roof, the towers atop of the cathedral structure acting as windbreakers. They acknowledge each other as Academy Students, with the blond boy wearing his standard blazer, and the identity badge visibly hung around the shorter boy’s neck. They stare at each other, surprised, because they never thought there were other students boarding during the winter break.

“I didn’t know someone else was here, sorry.” Siegbert got up there second, and made for the exit. But he wants to stay, and doesn’t know why.

“No, it’s okay.” Shiro calls out, scuffing his foot on the flat roof. 

(He’s grateful for any contact with someone who isn’t a teacher.)

“Are you sure? I just wanted to watch the sunset.” Siebert says.

(He’s already regretting how lame his words sounded. What almost-sixteen year old watches the sunset like a ritual? In front of one of the sole people he’s spoken to for his entire time away.)

(Shiro practically whoops. Not only is this kid staying around for the break, but he had the same idea he had.)

“That’s what I came up here for!”

“Well, it is the library-”

“- the best view on campus.”

The boys stare at each other, and wordlessly, as the winter winds rifle through the campus. There's warmth there, up on the roof, like none other, the air electric with something neither of them understood back at their homes with their cousins and friends. 

“Are you staying for the break?” Siegbert asks, sheepishly to the boy in front of him. 

(He doesn’t know his name, nor recognise him from classes, but the boy has mousey, shaggy brown hair, that piles at the front of the left side of his face, hiding his light grey eyes. He’s built well, maybe a good few inches shorter than Siegbert himself, but has nice arms that are folded against the chill wind.)

“Yeah, no one could make it out to pick me up.” Shiro mumbles.

(He takes in the lanky, blond boy before him, his elegant fingers fiddling with the purple scarf around his neck. He’s very fair in the face, only the marks of the wind bitten onto his cheeks to make them a faint blush the only colours on his face. His hair is messy and curly, like at one point it was always vehemently brushed and styled, but became too much of a hassle, or just became a forgotten ritual.)

Siegbert winces at the familiar excuse, almost doubting how the other boy could understand. “My father told me it’s better off if I stayed for the break.”

(Siegbert watches as the boy furrows his brows, cursing himself for revealing too much. No one can know about how he is the future leader of the Dusk Dragons, a title loose with connections and danger. He’s just fifteen, but the future is daunting, one he never choose to be associated with. No one wants to consider their family dangerous, but his cousins talk about the death reaped in by the Dusk Cartel, hidden behind the well-meaning Nohr Family. It’s no secret that the Nohr Family are corrupt, but ever since Siegbert’s grandfather went into politics, the cartel was left to his eldest son to man, like a kingdom ran on lies and coated in blood.)

But instead Shiro nods. “I get that.” 

(And he means it. By the time Shiro was old enough to ask why he was there, why he was left ignored in Fort Jinya, thrown away like an inconvenience, he’s understood. He grew up in a compound of lost children, coaxed into believing it was for his protection. Then Shiro grew up when he turned twelve, and his father decided he wasn’t ready to understand how it felt to carry an entire crime empire upon his shoulders, even if he’d be preparing for it. Maybe it was some kind of ritual in the Dawn Dragons, but once he and his friend Asugi turned twelve, the truth behind being sent away came out, like what their parents did was something honourable, something respectable. Shiro instead, laughed in their faces, and went to Cykensia for it. Asugi, with a much better idea, ran away instead.)

“Wanna watch the sunset?” Shiro asks, stepping closer.

(He’s too hopeful at the prospects of meeting someone else like him, someone else left in the school, almost without a second thought.)

Siegbert nods at the boy, warmth spreading around him in the darkening sky.

Two Princes meet during a solstice, the world shifting under their gaze.

-

“That’s not so bad, my dad vapes.”

Siegbert’s eyes widen. “Your dad vapes? Like, e-cigarettes or those godawful pen things.”

Shiro shakes his head ruefully “No, one of those pen things.”

“Is it strawberry swirl or berry blast?”

“Neither, it's that weird vanilla one. But my ma has been wanting him to quit as long as I’ve been alive.”

Siegbert sniggers. “Still doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.”

Shiro agrees with a puff of laughter, his condensed breath wafting in front of him.

The night is surprisingly clear for the two of them, the stars visible above the eccentric skyline of the city. It’s not even the actual holidays themselves, but they can identify the glaring green, red and gold lights from a mile away, the light beaming into the space above them. The stars twinkle back, reflecting the gleam in the two boy’s eyes. For the past two hours, they’ve been talking, their chatter the only sound on campus. Below them, their guards are losing their heads looking for them, calling their names in the early night. They sit close to one another on the roof, shoulder’s brushing, hands occasionally cupped to house a fresh flood of warm air from their lips, ears numb at the tips. Windmire is too cold in winter, Shirasagi too warm, but Cykensia finds a nice medium, that still manages to leave them shivering in the evening weather.

Siegbert cringes, sulking into his palms when he remembers. “My dad sends me selfies.”

Shiro lets out a groan, head thrown back, as the sound reverberates into the atmosphere. He’s got secondhand embarrassment from the stories he and Siegbert have been sharing, but this might just take the cake for the night. He looks at Siegbert “He doesn’t really, does he?”

Again, like Shiro did just minutes ago, Siegbert shakes his head with a sorrow-filled gaze “I’m afraid I’m telling the truth. He’ll be away on a business trip and decide to take a selfie to send to me with his emails.”

“Like, what are his angels like? Lighting? Filters?”

Siegbert considers it for a second.“More like, ‘hey son, look how many chins you can see from this blurry picture of me and the Izumo Castle in the background.’”

Shiro bursts out laughing, unable to keep it to himself any more. “Last time I saw my dad was vaping and had a manbun. My dad is turning forty this year. Forty.”

Siegbert falters for a second. “Your dad was very young having you, right?”

Shiro shrugs.

(He’s never really thought about his parent’s age, but the longer they linger on them the more Shiro wants to change the conversation.)

“I guess, I mean, I don’t think about it. My dad’s forty, my mom’s thirty-five it’s just how it is.”

“You’re parents sure are young.” Siegbert says, then smiles.

(He’s thinking of short memories he has of his mother.)

“Mother died about ten years ago. I guess my father never recovered, and I was sent away with my cousins.” He says, almost like a confession.

“You were sent away too?” Shiro scrambles for words.

“Too?”

The dark haired boy lets out a laugh. “I’ve spent my entire life living in this awful compound with ten other kids, raised by an old guy who spent more time playing with puppets then looking after children. I turned five, then my dad found some old stiff to toss me off to.” Shiro takes a glance at the other boy, whose face held a perplexed expression. “Too heavy, I mean, you probably don’t understand…”

“No!” Siegbert yells, almost too eager. “I grew up in a fortress in the middle of the mountains, with nine others, all children of friends of my… family, I guess you could say. The only people we had were two maids who weren’t very good at their job and an ex-convict who used to tell his prison tales like they were bedtime stories.” Shiro snorts as Siegbert continues. “But I know why we were sent there.”

“Yeah,” Shiro cracks a smile. “I know why I was sent there, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

(He’s thinking of all the times his father has expressed his love, be it in visits or letters, poems or just keeping him out of harm’s way. )

“I had to beg to be allowed to come here for months. I was homeschooled my entire life.” 

(He’d first suggested going to Shirasagi, but even the first syllable of the city’s name pushed him back a good few months, if the colour his father’s face turned meant anything.)

The two boys relax against each other, the breeze ruffling their hair, the thousands of stars gleaming down. The bright lights of the city are nothing compared. The constellations flex and shape above them, sloping into their true forms, the legends sweeping across in bold strokes and thick connecting lines.

“I think my dad’s cheating on my mom.” Shiro says.

(The anxiety escapes him like air from a balloon. He feels lighter, without always holding that in. 

He decodes his dad’s letters about a woman named Scarlet who is ‘a great asset to our family’ and ‘understands the field’. His mom mentions how lonely the house feels when no one’s there, how his father is almost never home anymore. And the tabloids praise his dad as the number one most eligible bachelor in Shirasagi. It hurts, not being acknowledged, Shiro realises with a faint grin.)

“And I had to be dragged here because I asked him about it.”

“My dad has my entire future planned for me and I have no idea how I feel about it.” Siegbert says, as carefully and as shakily as someone defusing a bomb. 

(Maybe that’s what he’s doing, and now that he’s told one person it’ll be the thing to sway his mind into pointing him away from Nohr Enterprises and the Dusk, and into the cold arms of disappointment. He can’t let his father down, but the future’s steep and Siegbert-

Sigebert is lost.)

(But so is Shiro.)

And honestly, at the end of it all, they’re just two boys with kingdoms they don’t fully understand, walking into a war that leaves no survivors.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !!


End file.
